


all i want is your attention

by sicklikewinter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicklikewinter/pseuds/sicklikewinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>i can be your new favorite waste of time, and you'll be mine</i>
  <br/>
  <i>all i want is your attention, it's all the same thing</i>
  <br/>
  <i>are you in? what's it gonna be?</i>
  <br/>
  <i>don't roll with the punches, make it hard for me baby.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i want is your attention

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jpegberts (ridarana)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jpegberts+%28ridarana%29).



> [](http://www.jpegberts.tumblr.com)syd wanted porn  
> so i decided to suck it up and practice more smut and write some for her  
> yolo
> 
> \m/

The moon is bright out tonight, you notice, and you take a sip of the water bottle you hold in your hand. Dave is approaching you slowly, one hand holding a bottle of vodka and the other hand outstretched, and you think he's candy coating his tongue with liquid acid and drops of whatever sugar high he can find at this party and you're two parts worried four parts excited for what's to come, for balance. You can just barely hear his muttering, raps and confessionals to an invisible god only he could see.

When he approaches you and the tent you sit in front of, he hands you the vodka plus a baggie of pills, and you frown at the bag. He shrugs his shoulders, the liquid-honesty in his veins making him more open, better to read, and you bite your lip. You're worried there's going to be a side effect to his one man act of danger, and you don't want to see him cold and in a morgue. He sits down next to you, arm firmly around you, and he rests his head on your shoulder. 

"You going to look at that all day or are you going to take a swig?" his voice is raspy, throat crackling with the chemicals swirling in his body, and you tense slightly. You take the vodka bottle and down it fast. It burns your throat down and all you smell is the sting of alcohol and the scent of Dave's cologne as he shifts next to you. There's a moment where you want to punch him in the mouth, to see his red blood and assure yourself that he's  _real_  and  _alive_ , but you refrain.

Instead you dig around in the backpack next to you and pull out a bag of Sour Patch Kids, and pop the red ones into your mouth. The sugar-sour from the candies mix with the vodka and makes it bearable; but just barely. You swallow down the gummi candy and look at the bottle in your hand. There's more than half still there, and you down another large gulp of the vodka, the chuckle from Dave spurring you on.

The alcohol in your blood makes your head spin, but it's a pleasant spin and you can feel the warmth from just being next to Dave. It's a nice feeling, and you want  _more._  Dave only laughs and lets you fall into his lap, a pile of gangling limbs and awkward angles and you inhale deeply the scent of his cologne and the scent of vodka on his shirt. You imagine him weightless as he holds the vodka bottle steady in your hand, and you take one more gulp of vodka, the burn making your eyes water but your head clears and thickens all at once.

Dave's lips are at your forehead now, cool and soft and comforting as you cling to him, your legs spread on either side of his as you straddle his lap. You and Dave are a tangle of limbs and awkward poses, but you're too full of alcohol to care. He presses his lips to your forehead once again, and then your nose, your cheeks, and finally he kisses you—rough and needy and filled with unsaid 'oh god's and pleas of 'dont leave me's—and you kiss back. 

His hands wander the planes of your shoulders, leaving fire in their wake despite the fabric between your skin and his palms. The shirt doesn't deter Dave, however, and he eagerly slides his hands beneath your shirt. His gentle touch makes your breath hitch, alcohol swirling violently in your bloodstream and you bite his lip. He groans, the sound swallowed by your mouth, and he gives you a desperate twitch of his hips. 

Your hands run down his chest, and to the bulge in his jeans. He gasps as you put pressure on his obvious erection, and gobble up the noises he makes. Dave bites at your lips now, and you put more pressure on his dick. Finally he gets too impatient—fueled by the liquid acid and candy coated downfall—and his fingers deftly unbutton your jeans and palm your own erection. 

" _Shit_ , Dave," your voice is hoarse, and gets swallowed up by the kiss Dave restarts—youre on fire too hot too much too close but you want this you want to burn up with dave until youre nothing but ash and riding the wind—and you slide closer as you rut against Dave. He whimpers at the friction, and you nearly do too, but you pull away from his mouth and press kisses and nips to his neck. He lolls his head to the side to allow you more access and you eagerly mark him up, one hand tight on his hip and the other palming his clothed erection.

"The tent dude," Dave's voice is quiet, hitching as you bite particularly hard at his neck, "there's more stuff in there rather than these shitty things." he motions to the vodka bottle and baggie of pills, and you feel your stomach drop—not in dread but excitement you want more of this warmth coursing through your veins and if dave is here with you its surely going to be the best—and you pull away from him. 

He shakily sighs, his movements uncoordinated as he unsteadily rises on his feet. Dave drags you up to your own feet and you stumble, just barely managing to get balanced. Dave is already dragging you inside the tent you set up hours earlier, and he doesn't bother searching for a light. He immediately grabs you close and presses his lips to yours; hands wandering and palming your erection.

You keen and jerk into the touch, desperate gasps escaping, and he  _laughs_. There isn't anything you're not willing to try now, your lungs ache from breathing in the scent of  **Dave**  and the candy coating on his tongue and on his lips, and your veins scream for more alcohol or something  ** _better_**. He shoves you to the sleeping bags scattered on the ground, and you let out a quiet 'omph!' when you land. 

It's dark, and you can barely make out the dark shape of Dave's body, but there's shuffling and then a quiet 'click-click-click' and your boyfriend's face is illuminated by a flame, before disappearing. A cigarette is in between his lips, but it's awkwardly wrapped and you're positive it's not what it looks like, and lights it. He inhales deeply, a dull glow from the tiny cherry illuminating a small part of his face, and your mouth parts at the sound of silence. 

"What is that?" your voice is small, and it's swallowed by the intimidating darkness, but it's gone as soon as Dave exhales; bitter-sweet smoke curling and choking your lungs and you don't care, you  _inhale_  and revel in the way it makes your head spin. Dave gently picks your hand up and hands you the cigarette and you take it from there. You take a drag, almost choke but you swallow it down with the burn of the smoke and the chemicals inside.

Dave is shifting again; fabric rustling and the dark shadow where his body stands morphing changing shifting—youre positive hes naked now and you feel overdressed overdressed  _dressed to the nines_ —and he takes the cigarette from you. The rest of the chemicals go to Dave, and you hear nothing as he inhales and holds it. The time passes, and it feels like eons before he exhales and snuffs out the butt of the not-cigarette.

"Our salvation dude," he whispers against your lips, and you can feel your heart race at the insinuation; his hands already tugging at your jeans—a desperate tugging that makes your heart pound and your lips part wider, a moan rising in your throat—and pulling them down and off your body. You're hard and it  _aches_ , and when Dave brushes his lips gently over the fabric of your boxers, teasing the tip of your dick, you want to punch him in the face and  _make_ _him_  touch you.

A gasp leaves your lips as he mouths at the fabric of your boxers, the warmth making your own skin boil and peel back as you grip the sleeping bags with a desperate cling. Dave finally,  _finally_!, pulls your boxers off and already is taking nearly all of your dick into his mouth. You moan, low and keening and echoing off the tent's flimsy walls and you  _know_  if anyone was nearby they'd hear you—you dont give a  _fuck_  all it is is dave dave dave dave and you want more heat more more more—and Dave is antagonizing you by going at a pace that isn't  _more_  and instead  _less_.

Your eyes focus on the churning sight of color bleeding all over the inside of the tent's walls, and you feel the slick fabric of the sleeping bag tenfold on the tips of your  _fingernails_  and you know that Dave has found and given you your salvation. He pulls away from your dick, a slick and wet 'pop' that lets you know that he's coming back soon. The air cools the saliva coating your erection, and it sends sparks up your spine—large chunks that wedge and push and shove themselves deep inside nearly to your heart  ** _electrifying_** —and Dave shifts around once again.

"You're drowning in colors aren't you John?"

His voice is pleasant, coated in a current of concern and waving at you from beneath the swirl of color dyeing your vision rainbow. He snaps open a bottle cap, and he coats your fingers in icy liquid that goops and drips slowly down your hands.

"I love you Dave," your voice is quiet, reverent as you zone in on nothing but the colors and the feel of Dave's skin against your skin, guiding your hands to his entrance. You immediately tense up, your hand frozen in place, but Dave coaxes you to slowly slide a finger inside. He gasps quietly, a sharp sound that breaks through the silence, and his reactions make you  _ache_  and want him to come completely undone. You wiggle your single finger inside of him, searching and when he shudders and tenses when your finger brushes against that one spot, your mind is singing 'glory hallelujah's and you slide another finger inside.

His face contorts into one part pain and discomfort, but two parts pleasure as you hook your fingers and find that spot that made him fall apart a little bit. Dave bites his lip as he rocks his hips, and you take your time in prepping him, scissoring and stretching until he's near tears as he begs for you to  _do it_  already. 

" _John_ , come on dude I need this," his voice is terse, and you're just toying with him now, three fingers in and rubbing relentlessly on his prostate; and you chuckle quietly—it grows in cadence until its near hysterical and you pull your fingers out of him. He whimpers at the loss of your fingers inside, but as you grope around for the condom he sat out and the lube, you can hear his need-desperation-want-want-wantwant _want_. 

You have some trouble sliding the condom on in the dark, but you manage it and you coat it in lube, Dave quietly muttering to himself as you line yourself up and push inside. Dave keens loudly as he attempts to adjust to the bigger size, and you have a hard time keeping yourself slow and not tear into him—fast tight hot hot hot you want more of this you want moremoremore ** _more_** —but Dave's fingers are digging into the sleeping bags and you can  _hear_  them, hear his lungs tighten and his eyes clench as he adjusts, a breathy gasp escaping every so often as you finally push fully in.

" _Move_."

The voice that commands you is part Dave and part you and it's wrapped up in a desperation-neediness that you happily oblige in, your hips jerking twisting as you pull out and slam back inside. Dave all but  _yelps_  as the pace you set increases, and he's desperate to hold on to you, your name 'John John oh god John' leaving his lips like a prayer. It's silent in the tent, save for the sounds of skin against skin and Dave's praises and pleas and cries for 'more' over and over and over and over again.  _  
_

With one hand gripping his hip tight enough to bruise, your free hand reaches and grabs Dave's own dick. He all but screams out at the friction on his dick, and you stroke it messily in time with your thrusts. The colors in front of your eyes are a torrential downpour, reds and blues and yellows and greens and colors you're not sure actually exist exploding in front of your eyes like fireworks, and your head has never been clearer with the sound of his cries and your moans and the sound of skin-on- ** _skin_**. 

Your stomach coils like a spring, tighter and tighter and you can feel your release approaching. Dave's hips jerk with yours out of time, and you feel his dick twitch, the tell-tale sign that he's close too. His moans echo in your head, and you jerk your hips out of time faster and faster until the colors all suddenly  _stop_  and you can see the look on Dave's face. 

" _John_!" his cry is loud as his orgasm hits him first, and you can feel his whole body tremble as his release hits him hard and fast; your own hips shakily jerking as your orgasm hits you. Loudly you moan and grip Dave's hips for support, anchoring you to him through the swirl of colors that've started back up and you milk the rest of you and Dave's orgasm as best as you can. You slide out of him, whimpering quietly at the loss of heat and tightness, and you pull off the condom, tied up and tossed to god knows where, and you slump on top of Dave.

"I love you I love you I love you," your voice is thick with cotton as you speak, and there's a rumbling from Dave's chest—his laughter—and his arms wrap around you. You scoot higher and hover above his head, red eyes bright (sunglasses god knows where) and you lean down and kiss him.

"I love you too John, I love you too." Dave's voice is your lullaby as you settle down, curled close to your boyfriend and you fall asleep to color bleeding through your eyelids and Dave's arms around yours.


End file.
